He nodded. “We’ll head for the shed. You ready?”
She swallowed and nodded. Chase opened the back door and started firing, laying down a deadly line of cover. One man went down. Return fire peppered the back of the town house, three men, maybe more still out there. Spotting the shed, he started running toward it, keeping Harper on the other side of his body, gunfire swarming them.
He felt a sting in his calf, a bullet ricochet off the concrete walkway, but kept on running, firing as he made his way across the backyard. Another man popped up and Chase fired. The man cried out and went down, but more shots erupted.
Chase urged Harper behind the shed, pulled the fresh mag out of his pocket and shoved it into the Glock. “Run for the alley. Once you get there, head around front to my truck. I’ll catch up with you there.”
She looked as if she wanted to argue, but in the end, she ducked and ran. Chase fired a few more shots and started after her, felt the impact of a bullet slamming high into the left side of his chest. He grunted but kept moving toward the gate. His left arm went numb, but his gun hand still worked.
He fired off a couple of rounds, heard Harper scream and knew one or more men had been waiting for them in the alley. At the sound of a car engine behind the fence and the squeal of tires, he changed direction and ran for his truck. His calf was bleeding. So was his chest. His heart was hammering, his mouth bone-dry. He fought to keep his fear for Harper under control, but his hands were shaking.
When he reached the pickup, he felt beneath the bumper, grabbed the spare key and unlocked the door. Sliding in behind the wheel, he started the engine and slammed his foot down on the gas. The blue Buick roared out of the alley right in front of him, the driver and another man inside.
Chase raced up behind them and rammed the bumper of the Buick, jolting the vehicle forward. The man in the passenger seat shot out the rear window of the Buick and began firing at the pickup. Chase fought to control the truck, swerving side to side to avoid the barrage of gunfire.
Blood trickled down his side, but adrenaline helped numb the pain. He couldn’t see Harper, but he was sure she was in the backseat of the car.Stay down, baby. I’m coming.He prayed he could get the vehicle stopped without hurting her.
The Buick was forced to slow as it careened around a corner, and Chase gunned the pickup, slamming into the side of the vehicle near the front passenger door, sending it spinning into a lamppost. By the time the car came to a halt, he was out of the pickup and running.
A second vehicle, an SUV, rolled up, guns blazing, forcing him to take cover behind a brick fence. Sirens screamed in the distance, police and fire, but they were going to be too late.
The driver of the second car, a tall guy wearing a hoodie, kept up a barrage of gunfire while a beefy man riding shotgun jumped out and ran to the rear door of the Buick, joining the Buick driver, who had climbed through the car window. As they dragged Harper’s limp body out of the backseat, Chase fought to control his fear and rage.
If they’d hurt her... If he’d accidentally hurt her himself...
Chase shoved the anger and fear away. He couldn’t let his emotions get in the way. He had to stay focused if he was going to save her.
Unable to shoot with Harper in the line of fire, Chase swore foully as the beefy man tossed her over his shoulder, carried her a short distance and shoved her into the back of the big black SUV that looked a lot like the one that had just rounded the corner, driving hell-for-leather in Chase’s direction.
Hawk had arrived. Tires smoked as Maddox’s black Yukon screeched to a halt, and the passenger door flew open. Maddox laid down a stream of gunfire, and Chase ran for the Yukon. He jumped inside, Maddox hit the gas and the Yukon leaped forward like a panther in pursuit of its prey.
The driver of the Buick took off running, escaping around the corner, but Chase was focused on the other SUV. “Stay on them!” he shouted. “We can’t afford to lose them!”
Maddox’s concentration remained on the road, the supercharged engine in the big black Yukon rapidly gaining on the older Chevy Suburban, bringing them right up behind. Maddox yanked his T-shirt off over his head and tossed it to Chase, who pressed it against the bullet hole in his chest below his collarbone.
“How bad are you hit?” Jason asked calmly.
“Leg’s a scratch. I’m losing a lot of blood from the chest wound. Not really sure how bad it is.”
“They’re all bad, brother.”
Chase just grunted. The window was down, cold air streaming in, helping him stay alert. The good news was this time of night there wasn’t much traffic.
Ignoring a wave of dizziness, Chase took aim at the vehicle blasting down the highway ahead of them, waited to pull the trigger till the SUV slowed to round a corner, then shot out one of the back tires.
The tire blew, making the SUV swerve, and Maddox moved in, bringing both vehicles side by side as they roared down the road.
Too dangerous to take out the driver. Chase shot the guy in the passenger seat, who slumped out of sight into the foot well. The driver fired a couple of shots that went wild. Maddox moved closer, waiting for exactly the right moment. Waiting... Waiting...
In an open area, Maddox cranked the Yukon into the side of the Chevy near the back wheels, forcing the car to spin around in a circle and slide to a stop. The driver was out of the car and running, disappearing around a corner out of sight.
Maddox ran toward the Suburban. So did Chase. Maddox got there first and jerked open the door. Hampered by his injured leg, pressing the T-shirt against the bullet hole leaking blood down his chest, Chase ran up behind him.
Harper lay on the backseat moaning, shifting on the seat. Maddox talked to her softly, shook her gently, trying to wake her up.
“I smell chloroform,” Jason said. “I don’t think they used too much. She’s starting to come around.”
Chase clamped down on a fresh jolt of rage.
